The High-testosterone Men
First of two Parts:
PART 1 - THE LONG RANGER
Anvil Stone was horseback riding along with her older cousin Janilyn Lewis. Anvil is a 20 year-old girl, slim, tall, perfectly groomed, and with that typically English prettiness. She was on vacation in the farm house of her uncle Anthony and Carol Lewis in Sedalia, Missouri.
Ambling side by side with each other, they were discussing about boyfriends and penis sizes. Suddenly, Janilyn felt she wasn't feeling good.
"Oh gosh! My curse came. Anvy, I gotta go back and change. I'm sorry I'm spoiling our afternoon ride," Janylin said .
"It's alright, you go ahead and I'll just linger around a bit and pick up the view. It's so lovely here. I'll see you later," Anvil said breathing the spruce-scented breeze.
"Don't go too far Anvy. I'll tell Rick to watch over you."
"I'm a big girl now. Don't you worry about me. I'll be okay," Anvil soothed her.
"Ok, take care, be back before dinner. Uncle Herbie will be cooking roasted lamb chops and remember I'm gonna fix you your favorite Margarita."
"Fine. You hurry now before you get too bloody mess up."
"Let's go Chitty," Janilyn turned around her horse and galloped swiftly back home.
Anvil's horse, a bay colored Hackney, paused and peed. She tilted and peered down and watched a bit. "Gee whiz, isn't there a horse that's not well-hung?"
Soon as the animal was relieved, she heard an oncoming rider. Is that Rick? How he'd come so fast. Rick is Janilyn's older brother, who more or less takes care of the whole farm. The horse was galloping fast on the trail and kicking behind a cloud of dust. She steadied the rein on her braying horse and waited to meet Rick.
But the guy was wearing a mask; sort of like Lone Ranger. Is he real? Does this phantom law and order enforcer exist in this part of town? She was bewildered.
His horse strayed from the path and was now coming toward her direction.
"O-oh, I better head back," she instinctively thought and pulled up the reins of her horse. But it was too late. Like a flash of lightning, he swooped down on her, grabbing her waist and snatching her off the saddle.
Anvil was shocked beyond belief. A strange, masked horseman was kidnapping her! His arm held a firm grip around her.
"Hi! Ya' riding beauty!" He spoke.
"Hey! You bastard! How dare you!"
"Stop bitching lady, you're with the Long Ranger?'
"I don't care who the hell you are, just get off me!"
"Sorry lady, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Behave like a lady."
"You're kidnapping me! How can I?"
He laughed. "No, I'm savin' ya"
There's no point fighting the man. Anvil realized how helpless she was. Instinct told her that she had to abide by his way and just think later on for a way out. His arm was powerful. Anvil is 5' 7" and yet she seemed like a ragdoll in his arm. Through her bleary eyes, the rider was a big hunk of a guy, garbed in that body-hugging light blue Lone Ranger uniform. Still she wanted to put up a fight and so she grabbed and pulled his red scarf to strangle him and make him stop the horse. But he quickly crushed her with a kiss and she let go of the scarf.
"Lady, we're almost there," he said after kissing her.
"Where are you taking me?"
"A place called lonesome shack,' he said half smiling."
The horse slowed down, brayed and raised its front feet, and the masked man finally dropped her on the ground. She fell on her feet first but lost her balance and tumbled on her butt.
"Oww!" she cried and staggered up but she couldn't do as quick. The masked man dismounted his gray horse and patted its back and it run up to a shelter where there's water to drink.
The masked man loomed over her, hands on hips and ordered her to stand. Flushed with anger she heaved up and moved her hand to slap him but he caught her hand fast.
"I told you to behave," he said sternly and pinned her right hand behind her back. His right arm went under her left arm, pulled her pony-tailed hair back, making her leaned back and kissed her lips, long and torturous as if he was sucking her soul. Her free hand clutched on his shoulder. She managed to push her lips away from him and he released her. She pedaled back her feet away from him.
"What do you want from me?"
"Your body."
"Who are you?"
"A man in a hurry to get laid," he said as he began to remove his black gloves.
"What?"
"You heard it right, lady and I mean it."
"Over my dead body," she seethed.
"Uh-ah," He shook his head. "'Course not. 'Cuz you won't feel it when you're dead. And you don't wanna die young, do you?"
"Depends on the situation. I'd rather die bein' run by a cart of ore than be molested by a pseudo comic hero incarnate."
"Take off your clothes," his voice sounded menacing.
"No!" she shouted.
"Lady, don't bring out the madness in me and rip your clothes off like I strip off the skin of a porcupine."
Anvil recoiled in horror but more so of the thought that her new expensive shirt would get whacked.
"Don't waste my time lady. You gotta have to show me your secret possessions, tits and all under those clothes."
"What! I'm not takin' off any of me clothes to some foul-mouthed maniac, who hides his identity behind a phony two-bit mask and forces his ripshit macho mentality to get what he wants!"
"Frankly, I do get what I want," he said, quickly drawing a knife from the sheath on his left side hip and throwing it in a flash towards her direction. The bladed weapon swooshed below the fork of her legs before she could scream.
Anvil jumped back with surprise and saw the knife stuck with dead on accuracy on a big copperhead snake on the grass. Anvil screamed like for an hour.
The masked guy walked forward, bent down and pulled up his knife from the dead reptile, wiped off the blood on the snake's skin and put it back in the sheath. Anvil finally stifled her scream with her hands, bug-eyed.
Suddenly, Anvil's disgust of him was melting away. She's never met a man like this before and her knees weakened.
With a dash, the aggressive masked man scooped her body by the crotch and lifted her on his shoulder and walked up toward the shack.
"Get me down, you brute!" she yelled beating his back with her fists but she was no match to the power of this man. She was tempted to pull his knife out but she knew she couldn't stick it to him. He opened the door, walked in and dropped her on a single bed like a sack of potatoes. Her eyes wandered around and the little shack made of logs was not bad at all. It was neat and tidy.
